Fifth Born

For En: our Unexpected, Unexplainable, Unpredictable, Unforgettable and Unique one. I truly believe she's our gift from Dad.

Number Five: En

Fifth Born

She's our Lil' Miss Unexpected
The miraculous gift that came our way
Overcoming all odds she finally appeared
On 12 February 2017 Sunday

This unpredictable darling of an Aquarian
Debuted in an unforgettable style
Determined to create a dramatic entrance
Making her existence worth the while

We love our doe-eyed Fire Rooster
Mummy, Daddy, four sisters - who's her greatest fan?
Sending our hearts to a delightful flutter
Our fifth little Leonglet - Sook Yan

Teo Yuan Ching
21 March 2017

Copyright © 2017 Teo Yuan Ching

Mothers' Day 2015: My Thoughts

Chanced upon this little article and it got me thinking:

http://theweek.com/speedreads/453562/according-founder-all-celebrating-mothers-day-wrong

Yesterday was Mothers' Day. I told my girls in advance not to waste any money buying me little gifts like pretty beaded trinkets (which will inevitably collect dust because I won't wear them). And the only thing out-of-the ordinary over the weekend was to have dinner with my parents-in-law and my own parents together at a nondescript corner coffee-shop "zichar" stall in a quiet neighbourhood. Our simple version of Mother's Day "celebration".

But I welcome the handmade cards and heartfelt messages on them which, unfortunately, I haven't got the chance to read yet. Oh, I will do so when I can sit down quietly and savour every single word that my girls have written. I don't want to rush through and lose the special moment when the words deliver their impact.

These days, I'm flat-out of energy after 8-9 hours at my (secondary) day job and bracing myself for the remaining waking hours on my (primary) night job as Mum. And now, with Fourthborn (she who doesn't sleep and fights to take naps) thrown into the equation, I find myself being pulled apart in so many different directions I don't even know where to start.

#4is4toomany

Yes, I've said it so many times. I've definitely bitten off way more than I can chew. Not that I have a choice now. My girls are here to stay. But of course. I wouldn't want to have it any other way.

Honestly. How do other working mothers do it?

The obvious answer lies in careful scheduling to juggle my responsibilities. No sweat, right? It's just finding that sweet spot in the whole work-life-balance scheme that I haven't quite figured out yet.

HA.

I have stayed silent on this topic for far too long.

Lately I've been thinking about slowing down work. Perhaps it would have been a much clearer and easier decision if I hate what I'm doing but the awful truth is this: I LOVE MY JOB. So it's really quite a struggle for me because I truly want to be there for my own children. Yet I cherish my work identity and am not just about ready to trade that to be a full-time SAHM. Or opting for a part-time work arrangement.

At some point in my life, however, I would need to evaluate my options and stop being selfish. Sacrifices need to be made - it's just a matter of what I should give up.

For many of my peers who've readily traded Louboutins and Jimmy Choos for Birkenstocks and Havaianas, I salute you.

You've given up lustrous careers and economic independence in exchange for head chef / chauffeur / master teacher duties so that you can quality time spent with your lovely young' uns. You've evolved to become domestic goddesses and master craftswomen, super-duper mummies who run the household with great aplomb.

Just how do you all do it?

You tell me it wasn't easy at the start. And there were sleepless nights and trying moments when you wondered if things would work. You assured me that things will fall in place, eventually. And I would get used to the routines.

But how the hell do you do it?

Do I not love my children adequately? Is that why I'm emotionally torn? Because I'm starting to question if I love my job more than my kids. Or that my family is taking a backseat because I enjoy being in control of my own responsibilities at work knowing that in the home-front, I'm obviously not the one calling the shots? And do I really want to manage the household even if the power to do so is transferred to me?

I'm 41 this year and by now I know who I am and what I want.

And what I don't want.

1. I hate housework. I'm a lousy cleaner and I'm too much of a slob to keep my home clean and tidy. I can't sweep, mop, dust to save my soul.
2. I hate cooking. Just the mere thought of preparing meals for the family stresses me senseless. If I have to spend time in the kitchen, it's out of necessity. I find no joy in marinating, slicing, dicing, stewing, frying, sautéing, grilling etc.
3. I hate checking my children's homework. Yes, I *know* I'm suppose to but I think it's just giving them a license to blame me if I don't remind them to do their work, bring things to school etc. As a parent, I'm supposed to tell them what to do right? And if they make a mistake in their work I'm suppose to identify that and ask them to do corrections? No, I tell them flatly that they're responsible for their own learning and if they forget something, they bear the consequences. 
4. I hate "teaching" and "studying" for my children. No, I simply can't do it. I lose my temper far too quickly when they can't get the concepts right and again I don't really know how best to help them "revise" their work without wringing my own neck. And theirs. 

There, I've got it out. By my own admission, I've just outlined the main reasons why I can't bear to give up my day job to be a SAHM. I'm being frightfully open.

But does that make me a horrible mother? Some think so. They accuse me of being an irresponsible and lazy parent who pays others to do the job (e.g. tuition teachers) and that I don't care enough to ensure my kids are disciplined and diligent. In their eyes, I'm selfish because I'm not willing to make that big sacrifice.

Oh, yes, and that I spend too much money sending the girls for their dance classes (Xian, Wen & Wei), swimming lessons (Wen & Wei), art classes (Wen) and table-tennis coaching (Xian). I should cut down on these activities so that they will enough time to do their homework, study and do well in examinations.

What a terrible role model for my daughters.

Sigh. Old arguments that cause friction and unhappiness, eroding dangerously fragile relationships.

I can never do what my MIL does. She's an amazing example of the self-sacrificing SAHM who cooks, cleans, sews and runs the household with such mastery and clinical efficiency I hang my head in defeat. In other words, she's everything I'm not.

And since she lives with us, I'm reminded everyday of my inadequacy and faults. She's the reason why my fortunate girls enjoy sumptuous meals coupled with nutritious soups. And when they fall ill, I can be rest assured she's there to nurse them back to health with the right tonic soups and dishes.

During dinnertime, she will ensure that there's a dish for every member of the family. She knows our individual preferences and caters to our taste buds. Our refrigerator is stocked with food so we will never go hungry. She bakes cakes, pineapple tarts and other CNY goodies. She sews patchwork blankets, clothes, car mats etc.

How in the world can I top that?

I don't think my girls expect me to be like their paternal grandmother. They know full well I'm not docile and domesticated. And she's plugged the gaps of my missing Mummy-DNA so the girls don't "miss out".

Perhaps I'm not "born" to be a mother. I certainly don't possess certain "compulsory" traits to qualify me automatically for a SAHM post. That's equivalent to the CFO, COO and maybe even the CEO of an MNC. Hardly an easy job, and that's why I regard SAHMs with such high esteem.

So what's my definition of being a "good" mother?

One who's there for my kids - to support them emotionally, to encourage them when they're disheartened, to listen when they talk, to hold their hands in the dark till they can flip the switch, and then let go when their paths are lit.

To accept that they're searching for their own identities and will meet with failure along the way. And when they do fall or bump themselves, help them to stand up on their own two feet instead of carrying them for the rest of their journey.

Sounds idealistic, warm and oh-so-fuzzy? I suppose so. I've always been an emotional creature and to me, those are infinitely more important that providing monetary benefits and comforts. For me, the home is where the heart is.

I'm not the Perfect Mother and no matter what I do, I will never be perfect in everyone's eyes.

I just need to pass my children's test. They are the ones whose opinions matter.

I'd give myself a 4.5/10 for being a mum. It's still work-in-progress and I've had highs and many lows in this tumultuous journey. Maybe in 10 years' time, I will look back and chuckle at my frivolity and silliness, and how I'd wasted a full day ranting over nothing.

Maybe.

But for now, these issues are raw and unnerving, clawing at my conscience and keeping my head spinning, searching for clues to solve my issues.

Ask me in 10 years and hopefully I'd have made peace with my heart.

Qi's Little Steps

My fourthborn has hit one of the biggest milestones in her life – she can now walk!

For every parent, a child’s first steps are the most anticipated and momentous developmental process. Why? Perhaps it’s because walking signals the start of independence – a child’s ability to rely on his own feet, charting his own direction and taking control of his path.

I can’t pinpoint the exact dates my girls started to walk unaided and it’s a pity I didn’t think of documenting those special moments. Regrettably, I was too overconfident of remembering the details (and now my aging brain has failed me) though I can roughly recall the months they started to take those wobbly first steps: Xian (14 months), Wen (15 months), Wei (12 months) and now Qi (13 months).

With Qi, I managed to capture her attempts on the iPad – she walked about 5 steps, without assistance, on 4 April 2015. Exactly 13 months after she appeared in our lives. Weeks before, she’d showed signs that she was all ready and raring to go, taking 1 or 2 steps before faltering and getting up to try again. She’s quite the determined, cheeky, agile little monkey despite her tiny frame (she’s only in the 25^th percentile for her weight and almost 50^th percentile for her height) and we weren’t surprised she was cruising rather quickly.

Two Saturdays ago, we took the kids to the airport with the sole purpose of letting Qi “practise” her walking. The wide open spaces (usually the viewing gallery) are perfect for toddlers who need the “runway”. That’s where her older sisters headed to almost every other weekend while they were learning how to walk and run too. We selected a quiet, isolated spot at T3 and let loose our delighted fourthborn who was giggling and squealing with delight as she spirited up and down the alley. 

Here's proof of our exuberant toddler strutting her stuff, with her watchful "bodyguards" hovering by her side: 

And now, two weeks later, she's steadily dashing about wildly. And we're exhausted scrambling after her.

How fast the kids grow.

How I miss the baby days. ;'(

Daddy's Dynamite

What do you get for a simple, down-to-earth and super practical dude who isn't really into gadgets or expensive branded goods?

Something you can't swipe off the shelves and wrap up in shimmery paper.

Every time he's a daddy again, he gets a 'birthday' poem from his baby girl. He's got three so far, in the respective following years of the girls' births: 2003, 2006, 2009. And now 2015 after the appearance of our fiery-tempered Fourthborn.


Daddy's Dynamite
I know many envy me
Just 'cos I'm the family's baby
Everyone thinks I get my way
And all I do is eat, sleep, poo and play
They don't know how boring it can be
When I'm up and no other Leonglets are around but me
Too bad my three cheh-chehs are already in school
But Daddy do you know what's really cool?
Yours is the first face I see when I wake
That's right, there's no mistake
I know that voice, that hair, that face
Ain't no other who can take your place
Mummy is functional, I can't deny
My calcium fix on her I rely
But Daddy you're my fun-maker playmate
Though you've got so much on your plate
You settle my morning bath before work takes you away
Sometimes you even pop back home midday
Just to check on how I'm doing
Whether I'm eating right, napping and pooping
And when the Moon lights up the night sky
That's when you'll hear me screech and cry
Cos I refuse to sleep - sleep is for the weak!
I may just be a baby but I certainly am not meek
When you step in and do your Daddy discipline thing
I raise the stakes and get into the ring
I fight and scream till I'm hoarse
Seriously. Am I not the little boss?
No-one else can decipher my need
No-one else takes any heed
Only you can understand my pattern
Rocking the sarong to a swaying rhythm
No trial-and-error, no second guessing
You know my demands when I start fussing
Despite me giving you sleepless nights
You patiently put up with my relentless fights
Thank you for loving me come what may
Hugs and kisses from your littlest dynamite Sook Kei

~ Baby Sook Kei ~

Teo Yuan Ching
25 March 2015

Copyright © 2015 Teo Yuan Ching

Dynamite

Incredible how I've let time slip through my fingers.

Last year I was wailing over how Fourthborn was literally taking her own sweet time to meet the world.

And now we're gearing up for her 1st birthday.

This one's for you, Qi.When you grow up and read this, I hope you'll realise the torture you've put as all through.

But we all still love you to bits.

Yes, even when you're totally unreasonable and wake up 3 times in the middle of the night to nurse. And thank you for allowing me at least 3-4 hours sleep everyday. I should be so grateful.

Dynamite

I'm a pint-sized firecracker who doesn't like much to sleep
And this makes my poor caregivers pull their hair and resignedly weep

I'm super duper picky over my caregivers too
Not any Tom, Dick, Harry, Lisa, Mary or Jane will do

There's a priority list of who I fancy
Daddy, Mummy, Big Sis - and that's pretty much for me

I don't like to drink from cups or bottles 'cos I prefer it straight from Mummy
And I'd rather wait to drink from the source even when my tummy's rumbly

True, I may be at the bottom 25% in size and weight
But try messing with me and you'll realise too late

I'm not to be trifled with 'cos I've a nasty temper
And my cranky tantrums are ear-piercing sessions to remember

You may wonder how I get so much energy despite my seemingly poor appetite
Here's my secret: I recharge by snacking on powerbanks and wires 'cos I'm a super dynamite!

My little Dynamite

Teo Yuan Ching
22 February 2015

Copyright © 2015 Teo Yuan Ching

When colours matter

Last week I got a pedicure done and faced the usual dilema: which colour should I paint my toenails in?

It may seem like a frivolous matter totally unworthy of a blog entry but trust me when I say that the colours I pick will spark of a war. Literally.

You see, whenever I get a pedicure, my girls openly squabble over which colour I should choose - usually their favourite colours. Xian roots for purple, Wei chants "GREEN! GREEN! GREEN!" while Wen (who has decidedly outgrown pink) suggests blue, silver and turquoise.

Over the years I've tried out a variety of colours and usually settle for something "safe" i.e. shades of reds, purples, corals, nudes and browns. So last Monday I decided to take a gamble and picked a greenish shade.

The minute the colour was applied on my big toe, I regretted it. Instantly.

I could still change my mind there and then, but I decided to stick with it even though it looked arghfully bleh.

Why?

Because green is Wei's favourite colour and I felt that I "owed" her. And choosing green to "beautify" my twinkle toes was a way of "making it up" to her.

Admittedly, I've been pretty mean to my 6-year-old. Qi has "usurped" Wei's position as baby of the household and Wei's not been reacting well to the situation. While she loves her baby sister to bits, it's obvious that she's still trying to come to terms with how the dynamics of the family has changed. She "acts up" and does things to irritate everyone, just to get our attention.

For example, Wei will jump on the bed while Qi is peacefully lying down. The sudden jolts would shock Qi and she'd cry. That would get us mad and we'd yell at Wei for disturbing her baby sister. Or she'd holler, yell and laugh on purpose when the baby's sleeping. Once, Wei even pinched Qi's cheeks and the baby screamed her lungs out.

I try to control my temper whenever these incidents happen but with less than 6 hours of sleep (interrupted, no less) each day, you can well imagine how grumpy this weary fat cat is. And before I can pinch myself, this provoked tigress roars. No holds barred.

Being the thick-skinned and equally thick-headed child that she is, Wei would usually just shrug her shoulders and stomp off only to return 3 minutes later to either repeat her actions or try a different strategy to get some reaction from me.

It's already exhausting enough to second guess what the baby's trying to communicate. I really don't wish to deal with another kid's insecurities. But I know Wei needs to be reassured that she's still my little ragamuffin and I love her loads despite her constant attempts to push my buttons.

When she caught sight of the colour, she proudly announced to her sisters "Che Che! Mummy painted green you know! GREEN leh!"

Wen the silent observer made sure Wei was out of sight (and ear shot) before she commented, "You chose this to make Wei happy right, Mummy?"

"How did you know?" I asked.

Wen smiled and replied, "Because you don't like green, what! You're just doing this for her. Am I right Mummy?"

Sharp and intuitive, my secondborn. That one keeps her thoughts to herself most of the time but when she does attempt to communicate, she usually surprises me with her sensitivity and maturity.

So here I am with a coat of emerald polish on my toes. It's been exactly a week and I've grown accustomed to the green tips peaking from my slippers. I'll let them grow out and make another trip to the manicurist in a few weeks' time.

Best part? Wei's cut down on her crazy antics these past few days. She's still creating havoc, of course. That's never going to change and we certainly don't expect her to.

Isn't it amazing what a little colour can do?

Baby Dearest

Ok, I may sound like a soundtrack stuck on repeat mode and I'm pretty certain I've mentioned it before but heck, I'll say it again: Motherhood's an incredible experience.

After a break of 6 years, I've *almost* forgotten what it's like caring for a newborn.  (I'd to unlock my memory bank and sieve through archives to retrieve the data.) But like a plug-and-play device, I was up-and-running, and settled into auto-pilot mode within the first month.

Qi is now 8 weeks old and I'll be heading back to work in a month's time. Mixed feelings all round because much as I love my kids, staying home with them full time drives me hair-pulling bonkers. Furthermore, giving up my job will financially cripple us - not that I make tonnes of money as a polytechnic lecturer but feeding a big family doesn't come cheap and every extra bit helps.

While I may not have the luxury of updating my blog on a regular basis, I do try to capture significant moments of my life so that I won't forget them in time to come. Qi has been difficult in the last few weeks, possibly because she's mastered the art of manipulation and skillfully executes her well-planned manoeuvres to get what she wants. No longer the calm, sleeping newborn who was so easy to care for in the early days.

We've had a fair share of rotten days when she'd yell her lungs out and nothing seemed to pacify her. I'd get frustrated in return and lash out at the older ones (usually Wei) who often fuel my rage by procrastinating, lazing around, squabbling with each other and getting on my nerves with their nonchalant ways and general misbehaviour. Not forgetting the well-meaning advice dispensed which I do appreciate but not necessarily always want to act on because I have differing views. And then everyone becomes unhappy and I berate myself for upsetting the balance in our family.

*SIGH*

Note to self: I need to work on my anger management skills. Harsh words uttered in a fit of anger can't be retracted.

Anyway, I penned this simple poem while everyone was out, leaving both Qi and me alone to enjoy each other's company. Conversation was one-way, although she occasionally grunted, snorted, gurgled, cried and cooed in response.

And then she flashed this wide, heartfelt grin:

In one fell swoop, every ounce of negative energy drained from my pores. Those sleepless nights, the crazy feeding fights, dirty diaper wars and wailing matches were all worth the while.

And all it took was one toothless smile.

Qi, this one's for you.


Baby Dearest 

I forgive you when you're super cranky
Screaming down the house

I forgive you being a fussy eater
Regurgitating milk on my blouse

I forgive you for restricting my diet
Making me constantly check your poo

I forgive you for my blood-shot panda eyes
Waking me every other hour or two

I forgive you when you refuse to sleep
Insisting on being rocked and cuddled by me

I forgive you for keeping me up in the wee hours
Cooing and gurgling till three

I forgive you even when you cry for no reason

Understanding you've limited means of communication

I forgive you when you're demanding and loud
Fighting with your sisters for my exclusive attention

I forgive you for every frustration you cause
Knowing it isn't at all deliberate

I forgive you for every little thing my child
Being mum to you, darling girl, is a welcomed fate

Teo Yuan Ching
4 May 2014

Copyright © 2014 Teo Yuan Ching

Number Four's Ditty

One of the silly songs created to amuse (myself) the kids.

Number Four's Ditty

大姐 (da jie) is the sleepy one
Who can't get out of bed

二姐 (er jie) is the grumpy one
Who sulks from toes to head

三姐 (san jie) is the noisy one
Who loves to yell and scream

And I am the cutesy one
Who's going to be their Queen!


Teo Yuan Ching
9 April 2014

Copyright © 2014 Teo Yuan Ching

Fourth Born

For my Number Four (who's technically my sixth). As per "tradition", I've written a short little poem for Qi.

Number Four: Qi

Fourth Born

Her arrival was a long time coming
And everyone waited in gleeful anticipation
Three sisters, Mummy and Daddy
All eager to give her their undivided attention

This little sweetie's as cool as can be

To arrive she's obviously in no big hurry

She probably reasoned: what's a few extra days or hours 

I'll be there when I'm good and ready

The baby Piscean finally makes a splash
On 4 March 2014 Tuesday
Galloping into the Year of Horse
Our fourth little Leonglet - Sook Kei


Teo Yuan Ching
28 March 2014

Copyright © 2014 Teo Yuan Ching

Presenting Number 4

Sorry, I'm two weeks too late in announcing this.

But I guess it's obvious by now that my little tenant has been evicted.

You'll have to excuse me for this belated announcement. As all mums of newborns know, the younglings don't understand the concept of time.

Or personal space.

Or that their life-givers need to take regular breaks and rest (I'm not even talking about sleep).

The little ones only know that when they're hungry, they want to be fed IMMEDIATELY.

Or they're squirmy because they're soaked in a dirty diaper and want to be cleaned up IMMEDIATELY.

Or they're too warm/cold and want the temperature to be adjusted IMMEDIATELY.

Or they're fussy and demand for some tender, loving cuddles IMMEDIATELY.

Newborns appear to be angelic and innocent, but they're the ones in total control: the grown-ups run helter-skelter, trying to decipher every cry and whimper, second-guessing what the babies want/need. Depending on which school of thought you might be accustomed to, some adults jump up and attend to the baby's every audible squeak while others believe discipline and training begins the very day the child is born.

But I digress. There are just too many thoughts running through my head right now and I really don't have the luxury of time to sit down and organise them properly because the baby is asleep now and this is my chance to ramble...

So. Exactly two weeks ago, on 4 March 2014, I delivered my fourth (and final) child.

I'd just visited Dr Lim's the day before and I was only 1cm dilated even though the baby's head was engaged i.e. ready to pop. She also highlighted that the little tenant was facing the wrong direction and may take a while before she moves to the right position. Since the tenant's estimated day of arrival was 7 March, Dr Lim said that if I didn't show any signs of labour by 6 March, I'd have to be admitted and she'd have to induce the birth.

I decided that a little "walking" would do some good so after my visit to Dr Lim's, I persuaded the hub to drive me to Plaza Singapura for a nice spot of Japanese food and some last minute shopping. As he was busy rushing projects, the hub ordered takeaways for himself and his staff while I sat at our favourite haunt, Kai Sushi & Grill, and enjoyed my stir-fried beef set. I spent the next 2 hours waddling around, stopping to buy a few new pieces of clothing for the tenant. I'd given away almost all of the girls' baby clothes so it was really back to basics.

It was about 3-ish when I realised lugging the additional 14kg was exhausting. Didn't help that I was plagued by sciatica midway through my pregnancy and prolonged movements were excruciating. I boarded the train along the North-East line and thankfully was able to get a seat (it was off-peak period).

I suppose all that extra walking in the mall did the trick. The contractions began close to midnight and initially I struggled to catch some winks because I thought they were false alarms. However, by 2 plus in the wee hours, the contractions gained intensity and I started timing them: 5 minutes apart. Reluctantly, I woke the snoring hub and got my hospital bag ready.

We reached Mt. Alvernia Hospital at about 3.30am, did the necessary administrative procedures, entered the delivery suite and then we waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

The contractions were strong and regular. But my cervix wasn't quite "ripe" and after 6 hours, I was barely 3am dilated. GAH!

Dr Lim strolled in at about 9 plus, checked me and broke my waters to hasten the birthing process. I was also put on the oxytocin drip to induce labour. The nurses were convinced that I'd be done by noon, since it was my fourth time. And my contractions were on track.

I'd (foolishly) opted for natural, non-epidural delivery again, much to the surprise of the nurses who exclaimed that I was one of the few women these days to do so. I figured that since I'd experienced childbirth without epidural thrice and survived, I might as well go for it again. Plus, I was concerned that I wouldn't know how to push if I couldn't feel anything below my waist. As far as possible, I wanted to avoid an emergency C-section.

I was getting impatient by 11am. This was by far the longest I'd ever been in a delivery ward as my previous three were relatively quick (less than 4 hours). By then, the contractions were beginning to slip into the "unbearable" state. Actually I was hoping to do without any other pain killers but the nurse saw my readings and suggested that I use entonox (gas and air) as I has done so previously. She explained that my body could be reacting to the pain and this could be counterproductive. I took her advice and she also gave me a pethidine jab which helped me to relax.

Within half an hour, the waves of contractions were merciless and even the entonox wasn't much of a help. That's when the hustle and bustle began as the nurses swarmed into action. I could feel the baby's head pushing down the birth canal even before Dr Lim's arrival. Of course, my OB/GYN is very experienced and she calmly walked in just in time for the delivery.

Even in my throes of anguish, I could make out the conversations around me and heard Dr Lim announcing merrily to everyone, "This one's an experienced mother. She knows how to push."

And then the birthing process began and all I could think about was: "Why the #$%^ did I not take the @#$%! epidural?!?!?" and "I can't believe I'm doing this AGAIN! !@#$%&!!!"

Actually, the scariest bit wasn't the pain/torture of childbirth. And I only found out MUCH later when the hub recounted (hours later, when I'd sufficiently rested) what happened in the delivery suite. Nobody was going to tell me anything there and then while I was desperately huffing and puffing away, totally focused on evicting the tenant.

As mentioned earlier, the baby was in the wrong position so during my first push, her head appeared and Dr Lim had to physically twist - YES, TWIST - the head (and presumably her body) to face upwards. When I pushed the second time, the tenant slithered out and that's when Dr Lim realised the umbilical cord wound around the baby's neck! Dr Lim then expertly manoeuvred the baby around and untangled the cord.

*&^%$#@!

Oh. My. Freaking. Gawd.

The horror stories of babies strangled by umbilical cords haunted me in nightmares. And I NEVER expected this could happen to me and my baby.

I'm extremely thankful and grateful for Dr Lim's skills and experience. Perhaps it's a common occurrence but our previous three didn't give us such a deathly scare so we were completely unprepared for such a heart-stopping incident.

Talk about making a dramatic entrance.

Anyway, it's time to present our latest Leonglet, my tenant no more:

Hello. I am Number 4.

Qi (that's her Chinese name) weighed 3.460kg and was 50cm in length. I was a little surprised because I'd expected her to be heavier than Wei.

My four beautiful Leonglets (from L to R): Wen, Qi, Xian and Wei

And she's the only one among my babies who wasn't allowed to be discharged after two days because her jaundice levels were high. So yes, we extended out hospital stay for another two days and because Qi's on a fully breastmilk diet, I had to be with her. I refused the option of substituting with formula milk and figured it would be too stressful for me to pump out the milk (there isn't much in the first few days) and bring it to the hospital for her. Yeah, I'm stubborn that way.

After two weeks (and two visits to the pediatrician for review), Qi is still looking jaundiced. We've been diligently "exposing" her to a daily dose of vitamin D in the mornings for about half-an-hour and will continue to do so until she looks less yellowish. :{

"Mr Sun, Sun, Mr Golden Sun...Please shine down on meeeee"

The first week back home was tough for me because I was sleep deprived and stressed over Qi's jaundice. Her sisters were also overly excited and kept running into the room to "check" on the baby, and this irked me tremendously because I desperately needed the rest.

Being a mum to a newborn again after a hiatus of 6 years isn't ideal, especially when I'm pushing 40 and my attention span needs to be divided between all my kids. The only consolation is that the girls are old enough to help out with the baby - especially during diaper changing time. Wen's the expert in this area and she will systematically lay out the essentials on the bed: changing mat, diaper, wet wipes and diaper cream.  Wei has become Qi's masseuse and enjoys applying baby lotion on her hands and legs. Xian, being the eldest and 12 years older than Qi, watches her while I eat/bathe/visit the loo etc.

Fortunately, things are getting better because I'm now accustomed to an-all-too-familiar routine - not too tough to get back into the swing of things after a while, really. It's only now that I realised how much I miss the days of caring for a newborn.

And I suppose I'd better enjoy it while it lasts because I'm pretty certain Qi will be my final baby.

March Baby like Daddy?

It's week 39 and Number 4's still snuggly and comfy in the womb.

I shouldn't be complaining, really. I was worried she might have been too eager to see the world and make her grand entrance when she turned 38 weeks.

On the work front, there's tonnes of administrative stuff I'd to finish before I take my maternity leave. Last week was super hectic as I was rushing to clear staff appraisals and my Film T&C paper exam only ended yesterday. Immediately after the paper was over, I scooped up the scripts and holed up in a small meeting room to mark my share of the pile. I managed to complete my portion and handed them over to my co-tutor who now has the unenviable task of taking over as Subject Leader (and tying up loose ends like processing the results and writing the examiner's report).

Plus Dr Lim was away and I *really* didn't want a random doctor delivering my kid.

Number 4's been really co-operative and understanding by staying put. But now that I'm done with what I set out to complete, I'm getting a little impatient. Part of me was hoping she'd choose to be out on the last day of February.

I reckon she wants to be a March babe. Like her father.

Ok, Number 4. Your tenancy is coming to an end and you'll be evicted by next Friday.

See you soon, baby!

Last Minute Shopping

Just 3 weeks more to go!

During the weekend a sense of urgency gripped me and I started to panic a little about Number 4's arrival.

I hadn't done much to prepare for her birth. Perhaps it's because I'm not particularly excited - she's going to be my 4th baby after all. 

Then again, it's been 6 years since I'd to go through the entire cycle so I have to jiggle my brains a little to recall what's to be done.

On Sunday, I finally decided to raid the cupboards and storeroom to check if I could recycle some baby stuff. All the milk bottles had been discarded - I would have thrown them away too because the plastic would've turned icky yellow with age. Since I'll be breastfeeding exclusively, the bottles will come in handy only at a later stage when I head back to work (or when helpful caregivers try to sneak in "water feeds" while I'm showering). 

So I trooped over to Happy Mom Happy Baby (which is conveniently next to our pet shop Woofy's Corner) and asked the ever-chirpy Jennifer for some help. I was a little overwhelmed by the range of products because the last time I scoured for baby stuff was 6 years back! 

Anyway, with Jennifer's recommendation I bought a Dr. Brown's Natural Flow® standard bottle, two Medela milk storage bottles, a pack of Unimom breast pads and a pack of Huggies® Newborn Diapers. 

Then it occurred to me that my trusty Medela Mini Electric pump (which served me dutifully since Xian's birth 12 years ago) may NOT be in working condition! Again, it seemed a waste to buy a new breast pump for over $200 since I don't intend to have any more kids after Number 4. So I got home, ransacked my drawers, pulled out the pump, assembled the parts, attached the funnel and switched on the electricity...

...and it STILL works! YAY!

To ensure it was REALLY working, I tried it out, just to check the suction power.

Yup, it's still able to urm, extract milk.

In any case, if I am desperate need to get a breast pump, Jennifer said I could rent one from her. Just the motor and pump, not the accessories of course, for personal hygiene reasons. 

That very evening I started worrying about my Saturday routine of dropping the older girls at various enrichment centres/dance classes/swimming lessons. Who's going to mind Number 4 while I'm carrying out my chauffeur duties? The only was was to bring her along with me.

And that was when I realised we NEED an infant car seat!

I dusted off our Maxi-Cosi Priori toddler car seat (which again served us faithfully for years) but it wasn't suitable for newborns/infants. With the 3 older girls, I didn't drive and we didn't really bring them out regularly until they were about 6 months and they could sit upright in the car seat.

The hub and I were reluctant to splurge on a swanky, brand new infant car seat that would serve us for only a couple of months. As the car seat's going to be installed in my little hatchback Pollie, we had to get one that would fit at the back and still have room for Wen and Wei since Xian would probably be seated in front.

I turned to the forums and auction sites to search for a pre-loved one. And managed to find a Maxi-Cosi CabrioFix for S$150. (New one's selling for about $380). The hub drove down on Monday afternoon to the seller's and texted me to say it's in pretty good condition, so he got it.

And here it is:

Pimp my ride, yo!

I know many people who shake their heads/cluck their tongues and slap us with a 'SCROOGE' tag for not giving "the best" to Number 4. Well, we aren't exactly rolling in riches and have had to watch our expenses in the last 2 years. The hub was taking a year-long break from work to sort out his career and he struck out on his own last year so admittedly we ARE counting our pennies.

And raising kids doesn't come cheap. If we have to scrimp and save to maintain a simple standard of living, I think it's worth the while. Isn't it more important for us to spend quality time with the kids?

Our girls aren't bred on branded goods, extravagant holidays and gourmet cuisine. We hardly go to the malls except for the occasional treat to the movies. They're happy chasing after the dogs (and each other), cycling, walking the dogs and dancing around the house. So far they're not shackled to technological gadgets (they don't own mobile phones or devices) and have no access to the computer unless I'm home. And I plan to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Anyway, I'll be hitting 38 weeks in a few days and still trying to remember if there's anything else I missed out. I'm quite sure I've forgotten a few things. Just hope I'll still have the time to buy/get them before Number 4's arrival.

Weighty Issues

Went for my check-up today and was surprised I gained only 0.8kg in the last two weeks. That extra weight's gone to Number 4 who's now approximately 2.85kg.

At 36 weeks, she's already heavier than Xian who weighed a mere 2.59kg at birth. Wen was 3.2kg and Wei was 3.5kg. Unless Number 4 decides to pop within the two weeks, she'll probably be a 3+kg newborn.

My mum's obsessed with the baby's weight (and mine) and her first question after every visit to the doctor is "What's the baby's weight now? How much do you weigh? How much weight did you put on?"

I understand why she's concerned. Xian was considered "small" and she was so fragile at birth I was worried about carrying her or changing her clothes after her bath because I didn't want to accidentally break her limbs. As a first-time mum then, every experience was new and I didn't have the confidence  to handle such a delicate baby.

When Wen and Wei came along, they were considerably "bigger" and I realised it was easier to take care of "larger" babies. Perhaps I was more experienced by then and with Wei, I was the primary care-giver during my maternity leave as MIL had difficulty walking and wasn't able to stand/sit/bend for too long. Despite the traditional taboo that a new mum shouldn't touch water during confinement, I bathed and changed Wei myself because I didn't have extra help. I'm quite sure this would be the same arrangement for Number 4 too.

As for myself, I've packed on a total of 13.5kg so far and with about 3 weeks to go, I may gain another 2kg or so.

I'm bloated, clumsy and waddling awkwardly. Yeah, I can definitely relate to a walrus now. Colleagues comment that my belly's huge and keep asking me when I'm going to 'pop'. My reply's "Anytime now" because I really have no clue when Number 4 will decide to make her appearance. I sure hope she won't choose her birthday between 22 to 28 February as Dr Lim will be overseas then and in the worst case, she'll be delivered by another doctor. That was what happened to Xian who decided to arrive at 38 weeks, 2 days before Dr Lim came back from her holiday!

Alas, there's no way to predict these natural occurrences and we'd rather not induce her birth just to "choose" an auspicious date and "determine" her fate. I guess we'll just let her stay in there till she's ready to face the world.

See you soon in the next few days/weeks Number 4.

36 Weeks

I have taken an extended break - almost a year off - from writing.

Have I been lazy? Yes. Absolutely. And these days, with Twitter, Instagram and Facebook so easily available, providing status updates, airing grievances and spewing random rantings have never been more convenient.

But I do miss constructing my thoughts and structuring them into the written form.

Here's an update of my life so far: The two older girls are in primary school and bombarded daily with tonnes of homework. Like most working mothers, I *try* to help them with their work even though I regrettably admit I am not disciplined enough to supervise them closely. Honestly, after a full day at the office, how many working mums have the energy to be all smiles and perky? More often than not, I lose my cool far too easily when careless mistakes are committed. I hate it when I morph into an unreasonable and impatient being, my crescendo shrills reverberating around the house.

It's a dreaded routine: the minute I'm back home, I ask them if they've completed their homework and if they haven't, they'll have to sit down next to me to finish up while I'm having dinner.

Xian's now in Primary Six and she's a little more disciplined than before, so she usually gets her homework done before I'm home. Only trouble is that she's unwilling to do any extra revision on her own as she believes finishing her school work is sufficient. This is a crucial year for her and at the rate she's progressing, it's going to take a miracle for her to pass reasonably well to get back to St. Nicholas. And I'm not even talking about getting 4As or distinctions since she's unlikely to even sniff a single A and passing is a problem.

Wen's moved on to Primary Three and she's still got the cool-as-cucumber, nonchalant attitude towards school. She's unfazed by terrible grades and won't bat an eyelid even if she fares badly on tests. She'll just shrug her shoulders and give me that "I've done what I could. What else do you want from me?" look. It's absolutely frustrating because she's capable of doing WAY better but she chooses to put in minimal effort and switches on the cruise control mode. Needless to say, her grades aren't reflective of her potential academic ability - and this is precisely what gets my goat.

Wei's in her last year of pre-school and she's the only one who doesn't require constant nagging to do her homework. She's naturally competitive and when she sees her sisters being chided for not completing school work, she's quick to "disassociate" herself by providing "evidence" of work done. While the other two baulk at the thought of doing extra work, Wei would volunteer to complete the assessment books and even asks me to buy more when she's done. Unfortunately, she is still unable to read despite going for phonics classes. I'm hoping she's not dyslexic like Xian who only managed to read independently after attending classes at the Dyslexia Association of Singapore (DAS).

And then there's Number 4.

Yes, that's right. There's another one who's yet to make her appearance.

Neither Bonus nor Lost survived the first trimester and that experience completely broke my heart in 2012. It took me several months to pick myself up and move on, even though the pain never really subsided. Naturally, when I conceived last year, I was worried about losing this one too. So I decided not to jinx my pregnancy and kept mum about it. Even my relatives were unaware I was pregnant until last week when I visited them during Chinese New Year. And when they saw me waddling in - huge bloated belly and all - their spontaneous reaction was priceless.

The first question on their lips?

"Boy or girl?" (Since I already have three daughters, they were rooting for a boy, of course.)

Most of them were disappointed when I revealed that I'd be saving tonnes of money on clothes and that Number 4 will be going to her sisters' school.

Granted, the hub and I were also hoping for a son. Not because we're gender bias or supremely traditional, but we wanted to experience what it would be like parenting a boy. Obviously fate has other plans for us.  What we really hope for now is to be blessed with a normal, healthy baby child.

And no, we are NOT going to try for a boy. Four kids is already stretching our finances to the max. Plus I don't fancy going through this whole cycle again. There's a REAL difference when you're preggers in the 20s and 30s. I'm hitting 40 this year so my bio-clock is close to the expiry date.

I'm now 36 weeks into my fourth successful pregnancy. During my last check-up at the doc's, my little tenant weighed approximately 2.2kg and if she stays in there till full term, she's likely to tip the scales at 3kg and above. Here's a 3D scanned image of my Number 4 in utero:

Hello. I am Number 4.

And so the countdown begins. She's all snug and comfy in there but it's only a matter of weeks before she's booted out of my womb.

A new chapter awaits.

Fears

I didn't think it was possible but it was worth a shot - a fluke chance that I'd get lucky.

And now I'm sitting alone in New York New York, tucking into some Wild Mushroom with Sausage Baked Rice dish and typing this while waiting for Wen to finish her Art class.

Usually, my Monday evenings are spent huffing and puffing to the pumped-up music at my weekly Amore aerobics class. That's a routine I've faithfully kept to since December last year in a desperate attempt to live healthier lifestyle. But I cancelled my class today because I'm not quite sure if jumping around, doing squats, tummy crunches and lifting light weights will destablise my aging womb. I don't want to take any risks this time, having suffered two miscarriages last year.

Yes, I got a positive on the home pregnancy test kit. Two clear blue lines:

But I am paranoid. Extremely paranoid.

After Bonus and Lost, I wasn't sure if I wanted to conceive again. I mourned for the babies I couldn't carry and cuddle. And now that I've succeeded in getting pregnant, my next worry is whether I'll be able to carry this little one all the way to full term.

Plus, being close to 40 puts me in a high(er) risk category compared to 12 years ago when I became pregnant with Xian.

This constant worrying is getting me nowhere. My hub, the usual brick whom he is, assured me that he'd be there no matter what's the outcome. I told him not to whoop for joy too early because the last two losses have placed me on the defensive and I am preparing myself for the worse.

We haven't talked about it much simply because we don't want to raise each other's hopes knowing that the odds are stacked against us.

And we really shouldn't be greedy because we've three beautiful girls already, and they've brought us great joy despite the usual bouts of growing pains which we're beginning to experience as Xian slowly transforms into a teenager.

It's a wait-and-see game. Fingers crossed.

Happy 11th Birthday Xian!

Motherhood's been an interesting journey so far with many heartbreaking, heart-stopping, heartwarming moments.

And it all began for me 11 years ago this day.

Your first experience of anything is always memorable, whether it was pleasant or otherwise. Being a mother for the first time was no different, and I was overwhelmed with trepidation.

I was absolutely clueless about childbirth despite reading up intensively on the subject matter. No matter how prepared you THINK you are, you're never quite ready to take full responsibility for another life.

But I'm thankful my firstborn is such a sweetheart and made my foray into parenthood a relatively smooth sailing one, at least for the first few years.

She may not be academically brilliant, but she's a sensitive soul with a great big heart, and that's worth more than distinctions, academic awards and perfect grades.

Thank you so very much for enriching our lives, Xian! Happy Birthday!

How NOT to be a Perfect Mum

This Sunday is Mothers' Day. Needless to say, retail outlets and restaurants all over will be celebrating to the lovely "ka-chings" of cash registers.

Mothers everywhere will receive cards, flowers, cakes, chocolates, presents etc.

I know the kids have gotten me something and they're waiting to spring their "surprise".

Upon reflection I've realised, to my horror, that I've failed the passing grade as a Mother and don't deserve anything from them.

A few people I know will stare at me in disbelief and chide me for being ridiculous.

"You're a great mum! You love your kids!"
"Don't be silly! You've done so much for your girls!"
"Why are you being so hard on yourself? Nobody's perfect!"
"Your kids are lucky to have such an understanding mum like you!"

But I know better than anyone else that I've not given my best, and I'm not like many self-less mothers who give up their jobs and careers for the sake of their families.

I'm a terrible role model and lack the discipline to guide them in their school work. I can't cook nutritious, wholesome Chinese meals and if I didn't have a helper, my family would be living in a dumpster because I am a disorganised mess myself.

Simply put, I've given up trying to be the classic text-book grade 'A' mother. It's way too difficult and I'm ashamed that I'm admitting defeat.

But I am exhausted. I've to juggle work and family and I'm not coping at all. I'm not thinking straight, made stupid decisions and have allowed others to get the better of me.

My kids aren't performing well at school and I'm not spending enough time ensuring that they finish their homework. When they misplace their belongings, accidentally pack their classmates' books in their bags without realising it till MUCH later (causing unnecessary grief to their friends), forget to do/submit their work, lag behind their peers etc., fingers point at me for not providing the right guidance and motivation.

Yes, of course. I'm their mother. I am solely responsible for their actions and wrongdoings, and I should be lectured for failing to bring up perfect kids.

Everybody wants the girls to do well in school. And I'm reminded that I should check their work and ensure that they study and revise their work conscientiously.

But what do I do instead of being a good mum and doing the right thing?

I pop in "The Hobbit" DVD and encourage them to watch the movie with me. I've also loaded the movie into my iPad and they'd tap on the screen to select their favourite scenes.

I sign them up for educational enrichment classes/tuition instead of personally drilling them in their school work. Despite being an educator, I don't have the patience to teach my own children. Irony, eh?

I chauffeur them to art/ballet/dance classes and encourage them to have fun while at it. All three girls started with music and piano lessons but when they expressed their disinterest, I pulled them out. Why? Because I place the "fun" value above others and I want them to enjoy themselves.

Who wouldn't want their offspring to be perfect, obedient children who will thrive in school, excel in sports or/and the arts?

If I've to drop all my other commitments to become a full-time homemaker to care for the kids, I honestly doubt I'll survive a year without going mental.

It's reached a point where I can't be trusted with the responsibility of being a care-giver. Without "support" I'm incapable of bringing up my children because I haven't "grown up" myself. And at the wise old ages of 11, 8 and 5 this year, my girls don't view me as a typical mum because I'm not considered their primary care-giver.

Does this rankle me? Obviously. Unfortunately, this is the end result caused by my own actions so there's no-one to blame but myself.

The hub constantly reminds me that I shouldn't grumble and I should "do something about it". Easy for someone who's been brought up in military fashion to shout commands and expect results. It worked for him and his brothers. That's why they all turned out they way they are: filial, obedient, successful in their own right.

Times have changed. Parenting styles have also evolved and methods of the past won't work as well as they did. I'm not advocating that we spare the rod and spoil the child, but in this century, empathy and understanding have to be factored into the equation. At least, that's my personal belief.

Yet, as a person who's constantly guided by the heart, I'm beginning to question the wisdom of being too empathetic. I often make decisions based on how I feel which is never a good thing and there's not a practical bone in me to derail that emotional train of thought. And that has resulted in countless situations where I've been taken advantage of. As my mentor/colleague puts it : "You will take on the world's burdens if you have to!"

Funny, that was exactly what I've been chiding my hub about without realising I'm suffering from the same problem. Only difference is that he uses his brain to solve issues. I don't seem to have one. Either that, or I've misplaced it.

There seems to be no easy solution and despite my countless readings on parenting skills, I'm disappointed with my efforts. The scariest thing is that I know what I should do but I can't bring myself to give up my life to enrich my children's. I feel sorry for them that their mum's such a meanie but I'm too selfish and set in my ways to make the sacrifices for my girls.

Such atrocity. Mothers are supposed to be sacrificial, aren't they?

And now I am paying my dues for my decisions.

Bonus II

Bonus left us on 6 February 2012. Even though we never met, I still count Bonus as my own, the one I'd lost. It's been a year and whoever said time heals is a liar. Perhaps it will get better. We'll see.


It's been exactly a year
And I still remember
How I was wheeled in there
The cold, clinical air
The blinding light's sinister glare
The rehearsed reassurances
The masked faces
The contraption over my breathing orifices

Since it's only been a year
I can vividly remember
When a second opinion confirmed the worst
The dreaded news I feared most
That wretched day my world took a tumble
And my life began to crumble
The unbearable concoction of pain and woe
The thought of letting you go

I desperately wanted some closure
I wanted you out forever
Yet I was silently grieving
Destroyed by your leaving
But what choice did I have? None
You were already too far gone
Your heart didn't register a beep
You weren't mine to keep

Yes, it happened last year
But every once in a while I still shed a tear
When I meet soon-to-be mummys
I envy their blissfully bulging tummys
When I see newborns lovingly cradled
Their tiny bodies carefully swaddled
The lump in my throat refuses to leave
Onto broken dreams I stupidly cleave

It's been a year
And sometimes I do wonder
If you'd joined our family tree
Which branch would you be?
Who would you take after?
In looks, traits and character?
But that's not to be
You weren't meant to be my baby

And so it's been a year
Exactly 365 days my dear
That you were taken from me
Via D&C surgery
I still cry and mourn
Over my loss and unborn
Perhaps it will take me much longer
Before I can fully heal and recover

Will you be there to greet me at the gates?
The day I leave to meet my fate?
Will you come up to me and say:
Sorry, Mummy. I'm the one who couldn't stay
But I'm here now to show you the way
Then you'd reach out and take my hand
And gently lead me to the new land
Leaving our footprints in the sand


Teo Yuan Ching
6 February 2013

Copyright © Teo Yuan Ching

Cheers to 2013

Happy New Year and welcome 2013!

That's when I say thanks but no thanks to all that 2012 has given and taken away from me.

I don't want to elaborate further because I don't want to repeat the stories. Brings back cruel memories I want to lock up in the dungeon of my cold, bitter heart.

The only thing I want to do for 2013 is to put everything behind me and move on. 

Perhaps the single piece of good news that sprouted towards the last quarter was that Xian miraculously overcame her insecurities and academic woes, and managed to clear all examination papers in the final semester. Those results weren't excellent by normal standards, but when your kid's averaging 30+ for most subjects and she scores 60s and 70s for the finals, that's definitely a major accomplishment on her part so won't you be proud of her efforts? I definitely am. 

Of course she didn't pull it off on her own. I was on a verge of a nervous breaking down myself when she drastically lost about 4kg in a matter of weeks and also lost large amounts hair. It was the usual case of me battling others' expectations of my daughter. I'd to put my foot down but simultaneously tried to dodge the bullets that were relentlessly fired at my direction. To me, it's simple. I rather have my daughter healthy, happy and alive. Academic success is but a small fraction of what life is really about. So if I have to face the music and be executed for my actions, so be it. In the end, my victory was won by the sidelines, and the smile on Xian's face when she got her results was priceless.

And one of the crucial factors that pushed Xian's confidence level up was my insistence that she joined the Table Tennis practice sessions during the week-long September break. She handed me a consent form and I encouraged her to attend the sessions. It was during this period that Xian's coach identified her potential and this inspired her to take the sport more seriously. Her confidence was given a much needed boost - she finally found something she could called "her own" and there wasn't anyone else whom she could be compared to!

During the December hols, Xian was asked to attend many more sessions and even trained with the Secondary Table Tennis school team for a week. Her coach spoke to me and lamented that Xian's "discovered" too late - most of the school team members started in Primary 2 or 3 - but if she's willing to train hard, she can make it. He even specially selected a Table Tennis bat for her (the cheapo $20 ones I got for her weren't competition standard enough) that cost me $110. 

So for 2013, this could spell a big break for Xian. Whether she makes it to the school team or even gets a chance to represent her school in any competition isn't that important. What's more crucial is that she plays up on her strengths, embraces them and accepts her flaws. She's turning 11 and moving into her tweens, and that's going to be another headache for me.

As for Wen, 2012 also signalled new challenges for her. She formally embarked on her Primary school education and it was hilarious to witness how blasé she is about school life. Little Miss Scatterbrain is supremely cool and nonchalant, leaving school books and homework under her desk, losing her belongings and stationery without losing her cool! I received calls from her teachers about her lacklustre  academic performance - she doesn't try hard enough and is contented to just get by. While she's managed to scrape through Primary One with passable results (Xian performed better), I'm a little concerned that if she doesn't adopt a more positive attitude, she's going to land herself in hot soup with her teachers. And I may need to make frequent trips to meet them.

But the one thing that perks Wen up immediately? Her weekly Monday night art class. There's a glow on her face when she goes for her art lessons. And if I'm not home by 7pm to send her for class, she'll start calling me frantically even though her class is at 7.30pm. She aims to be the first for lesson but she's always the last to leave since she enjoys lingering around. Well, that's my second born for you. She's takes her Art lessons seriously and that's when she can truly indulge herself.

My youngest, but certainly not the least, probably enjoyed 2012 the most. She's a gregarious 4-year-old and enjoys being the baby bully in the family. She's quite the natural leader and often commands her sisters with barking orders. The hub and I always joke about how Wei's a little woman trapped in a girl's body. She argues with strong logic and rebuts everything you say. Most of Wei's teachers (except her Chinese teacher) have good comments about her behaviour and cheerful disposition. But oh, she's a handful, make NO mistake about that. When she sets her heart on something, there's little you can do to change her mind. And she's only turning FIVE in 2013.

So that's my little report card on my three Leonglets. They drive me crazy most of the time, especially when they squabble, but that's all part and parcel of growing up. And for me, that's what I knowingly got myself into when I decided to spawn.

We've had lots more downs than ups in 2012. I'm no oracle to foresee the future so I can't guarantee 2013 would be any brighter. But we can all hope a little, can't we?

Here's wishing everyone a Happier, Merrier, Cheerier and Infinitely Better 2013!

Parenthood: Meet the Tweens

What's your definition of a "good" parent, if there ever is an appropriate way to define one now that times have changed?

This whole parenthood business is driving me stark raving mad.

I'm now in my 10th year as a mum, and I've a long, long, LONG way to go before I can even claim that I'm doing a decent job.

I've combed through books, flipped countless magazines, surfed several dozen sites, listened to well-meaning advice from the elders...and I'm still clueless at the and of it all.

One thing I've learnt to trust is my instincts. It's true what people say about mums. We do have some kind of sixth sense when it comes to our kids.

Xian hasn't been well after several bouts of illnesses since June. She's lost her appetite and is now reed thin - she never was big to begin with so you can imagine how it scares me to see her pinafore hanging loosely on her almost skeletal frame.

But what I'm most concerned with now is her emotional and mental state.

She's become very insecure, stressed, worried and quiet. My once chatty girl is keeping very much to herself and only raising her voice when she's squabbling with her siblings. Every time she's supposed to attend tuition or enrichment classes she'll complain of nausea, stomachaches and headaches. It got to a point where she'd cry and refuse to go for classes. She's even complained about going to school and I suspect she has become a victim of bullying incidents.

The last 3 months have been very draining as I watch her struggle with school work. She's trying to keep up but she's lost confidence because she's unable to catch up. It's not helping when others around her chastise her for her "laziness" and "lack of effort".

Honestly, which NORMAL kid enjoys homework, tests and exams? Which NORMAL kid wouldn't want to goof around, procrastinate, play and have fun?

To me, Xian's being the average kid who's growing out of childhood and evolving into a teen. She's bound to face peer pressure and other "silly girly issues" revolving around friends, jealousy and possessiveness. Those who've never had daughters will never comprehend the intricacies of sensitive friendships among girls - one moment we're besties, the next we fall out over something silly and 3 weeks later we're BFFs again.

Xian's emotionally sensitive beyond her years, and she takes in everything she sees and views them seriously. A comment or joke could trigger off alarm bells in her young mind. After I managed to coax and wheedle information out of her, she shared her insecurities: her worries about her disastrous academic performance, her inability to concentrate in class, her "blackout" moments when she's sitting for a test, the pressure of being the eldest child and having to play role model to my younger girls, the perception that her parents' marriage is falling apart because she hears us arguing over the "right" way to help her improve in her school work etc.

There's a whole lot of problems for a 10-year-old to handle.

Unfortunately, Xian reminds me very much of myself when I was growing up. Friends were of utmost importance to me, and I became angry when my then-best friend decided to "change" her best friend "just like that". I was 11. I was very hurt and I cried buckets. I didn't even know why it happened and kept asking myself if it was something I did. Luckily for me, I had several other good friends and after a while I realised that it wasn't worth getting so worked up over such trivial matters. Of course, during that period, it was anything but trivial, and I was losing sleep over the friendship - a girl whom I've lost contact with after we left school.

My point is: girls are girls. We take such things VERY SERIOUSLY. We are affected by what others do, say or think about us, even if we pretend the words don't hurt when they actually do. A whole lot.

I was such a useless dumbnut with Mathematics (still am) and I remember my dad hurling my assessment book across the floor in frustration because I kept getting the answers wrong. My dad's a genius at Maths (like the hub) and he couldn't phantom why I couldn't get the easiest concepts right. I was accused of being lazy and stupid (this sounds familiar) and not putting in any effort to improve even though my head was bursting trying to work out the problem sums.

And you know what? Maths was the subject I HATED because I FEARED it. Why? Because every time I got my red-inked 'F' paper, I'd worry about how my parents would react. So I'd blank out whenever I had to sit for a Maths paper and then fret over how to break the news to my folks when they had to sign next to the big fat, 'F'.

So I can imagine what Xian is going through because I had a similar experience. But I think she's got a worse deal: not only does she have to face her parents, she's got to contend with grandparents breathing down her neck as well. (I could never look at my dad in the face when I had to show him my report card - which is why I usually got my mum to sign it.)

What I'm upset about is that I can't seem to help her. When I try to be understanding, I get accused of being a lazy parent who doesn't discipline her child. When I try to give her space to breathe, I am told I need to sit next to her and hawk over her while she studies.

What is the use of academic brilliance when the child grows up selfish, inconsiderate and displays the personality equitable to my toenail? I would rather have a well-balanced child who's confident in her own abilities. Someone who's comfortable in her own skin and wouldn't be overly concern when her peers score distinctions. I always tell my own students that there's more to life than getting 'A's. I share with Xian the same thing but she doesn't believe me. Why? Because academic achievements are rewarded over everything else, and that's the system she and many Singaporeans are conditioned into accepting.

The greatest irony is that those who're NOT in education believe they know it all and have the solutions to "fix" the problems in society. The Education Ministry is slowly waking up but it's too little, too late. I am getting tired of fighting this losing battle, but I keep telling myself to push on because I don't want my daughter to become another statistic.

And I'm very certain that once this entry is made public, I will get another torrential downpour on my parade. I'm not out to criticise or blame anyone for this situation. Rather than go around trying to shift the responsibility on others, I am offering to bear the brunt of my daughter's burden and accept that I have not been doing my job as a mother should.

I recognise that everyone in the family is pitching in to help, but from what I've seen, their efforts are equally futile.

Why do I seem to be the only one who can understand the situation? And why can't I convey the message effectively to the ones closest to me? Perhaps I'm a coward. I fear that by standing firm and fighting for what I believe in, I will be labelled a rebel and dismissed as ill-disciplined, stubborn, hopeless, useless etc. All-too-familiar terms which I've been accustomed to as they were the very same words thrown at me while I was growing up.

So why am I biting my tongue now? Because I know the severe repercussions if I were to utter these words. Those on the receiving end will jump to conclusions that I'm "spoiling" my children, that I'm too "soft" on them and they will grow up to be delinquents who'll end up as useless society bums. Theirs are very valid concerns too and I won't brush them aside carelessly. Having witnessed and even taught some of these new generation members of society in action, I am mindful that giving in too much to children's requests and pampering them to the extreme will do them more harm than good.

I don't think I molly-coddle my kids - in fact, I seldom give in to their material demands for stationery, toys, gadgets etc. unless it's their birthday. Even then, I stick to a maximum budget of $50. On the whole, my girls are pretty well-behaved despite the occasional tantrums and frequent squabbles they get into. Again, I'm sure it's normal and all part of the growing-up process.

There doesn't seem to be a solution to this and I suspect this "learning-on-the-job" modus operandi that I've adopted will be here to stay. In the meantime, I will continue providing Xian with emotional support and encouragement, and pray that she'll overcome her insecurities in time to come. That's the least I can do for her, at least for now.